Sister of Charity
by Captain Grin
Summary: I lost my breath. I knew exactly where I was. Santa Carla. Of course! How stupid could I be? How blind! Not only was I in the past, I was in a whole other universe! That meant David and his Lost Boys were somewhere around here as well. That meant that tomorrow Michael was going to see Star & fall in love. He would be turned. And all hell would break loose. [Full summary inside!]
1. Prologue

Full Summary

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><p>I lost my breath.<p>

I knew exactly where I was.

Santa Carla.

Of course! How stupid could I be? How blind?!

Not only was I in the past, I was in a whole other universe!

Edgar and Alan Frog, resident vampire hunters. Well, not yet. Not until they killed Marko, then Paul.

I didn't know I wasn't breathing until my lungs ached and my vision had black spots in it.

I was staying at Grandpa Emerson's house. He was my Papa (here anyway). I was Mikaela Emerson... sister of Sam and Michael Emerson, the only daughter of Lucy Emerson. The same Lucy that Max wanted to turn and have her lead the coven alongside him.

And that meant David and his Lost Boys were somewhere around here as well, along with Star and Laddie.

That meant that tomorrow, when Michael, Sam, and Lucy arrived...

Michael was going to see Star and fall in love...

He would be turned…

And all hell will break loose.

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><p>Prologue<p>

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><p>I didn't belong here, I never have. But it felt as though as if I had come home.<p>

Lucy's hugs are just like how my mother's were. My brothers were just that.. my brothers. They annoyed me and delighted me. My grandfather was the vampire-slaying grandfather.

You know how most stories go; girl meets boy, boy changes her life forever, they struggle, eventually things work out and they live happily ever after.

This, unfortunately, isn't one of those.

I didn't meet a boy.

I was transported to a parallel dimension and now I've got to protect my new family from a clan - coven? nest? - of vampires.

Yes, vampires.

Not really the kind you can reason with either.

The kind that vamp out and tear flesh from bone. The kind that could not go out in the day, their faces changed.. The truly scary kind that killed without remorse.

Or was I wrong?

God, I hope I was wrong. Because these monsters are frighteningly human and Max refuses to stay away from Lucy.

I guess we'll find out.. one way or another.

I'll be damned if my new mom, grampa, and brothers bite it while I'm on duty. And if I can save a few souls while on my way protecting them, then that was certainly a big bonus.

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><p>Author's Note: Whoops, another story-.. Actually, this has been sitting in my folder for a while.<p>

Sooo.. Soorrry.. I really am, I just have tons of little ideas and I gotta get them out there.

The original title for this was 'Mickey Mouse's (Not So) Fun House'. Which do you like better?

I do not own The Lost Boys.

I make no profit off of this.

This is purely for fun, so enjoy!


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Whoops, another story-.. Actually, this has been sitting in my folder for a while.

Sooo.. Soorrry.. I really am, I just have tons of little ideas and I gotta get them out there.

I do not own _The Lost Boys_.

I make _no_ profit off of this.

This is purely for fun, so **enjoy**!

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><p>Chapter One<p>

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><p>Hiding.<p>

Yes, I was hiding.

I was hiding in a room that did not belong to me. In a house I had never seen.. much less ever been in. Overlooking a land I had never strolled across.

For a while, I just sat on the bed, thinking. Pondering. Begging whomever was listening to give me some answers.

No one yelled at me for oversleeping. No one burst into the room, begging me to paint their nails, or ask me questions regarding Batman or Superman. No one was demanding me to fix anything technologically related. No one was hollering at me to do my chores, dishes, sweeping, feed the dogs, etc.

That meant no Tess, and no pseudo-siblings. So..

_Where _was I?

I slid from the bed and stood in front of the window, again. I stared out at the sprawling land; an enclosed pasture with about 3 horses, a gate, and flourishing flora. It was very pretty.. For what that was worth, anyway.

I was wearing my pajamas. Black sleep pants with Bat-signals all over, a black large t-shirt with Batman's face fading in from the black.

I peeked out in the hallway again, holding my breath. It had to have been 11 AM.. right?

Right..

It was a log house, neatly furnished. It smelled like chemicals and old cologne. Music was playing in a closed room just off of the living room. There's a man in there, older, grandfather aged, he's been in there all morning, humming and singing every so often.

I step back into the room. There are two beds. Mine, that was set up beside the window, and another, closer to the bathroom, and in there another door leading into _another _bedroom.

My bed is all put together, while the other looks to be a single. My bed looks to be a twin. It's comfortable and resembles my bed from home. Black, curly, wrought iron frame, two mattresses and a box spring. It's pretty tall, and I'd have to hop up to get on it.

I _really _had to pee... but I was afraid that hearing the plumbing, the man would assume I was awake and talk to me.

...But I have to go...

...ugh.

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><p>When you gotta go, you gotta go.<p>

As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection grimacing. No, it's not that I'm dissatisfied.. it's just that my hair... it was... well, no longer pink. I worked hard to get Tess' consent to dye my hair an odd color and to get enough money to bleach it to hell and back, and then dye it. It was a dusty-rose pink color.

_Was_.

Now it was back to it's near-black color. I scowled, grabbing the brush.. _my _brush. Was my other stuff here? If this was my brush, other things that were mine could be here too, right?

I brushed my hair and was a little eager to see if my other belongings were here. I sighed, tying my waist long, loosely curled hair up into a messy bun. I leaned closer, fingering my roots, eyeing the color there. No sign of silver hair, and I nodded in content. That was _one _thing I didn't have to worry about..

I had a sharp chin, thick lashes, high cheekbones, and dimples. My eyes were bottle green and my skin was lightly tanned, with a sprinkle of freckles across my delicate nose. I had a Monroe piercing, a small, silver stud set above my full, pink lips.

At least I still had that.

I stepped back into the room I had slept in.. I guess my room. But with the two beds, would I have to share it with someone?

I began rifling through the dresser, all the clothes in there were mine. My pants, my shorts, my skirts, my undergarments, my shirts, _everything_. The vanity held host to all my make up and piercings. I pushed the closet door open and gasped.

There was a white bookshelf pushed against the back wall and to the left, taking up half of the space. On the bookshelf, all my books and movies were set up neatly on the shelves. On the bottom shelf had my shoes: various high heels, flats, and boots.

My two guitars leaned against the bookshelf's side, one was an light brown acoustic guitar, and the other was a pastel blue electric guitar. Hanging from the bar were my dresses, and in the corner were a bunch of framed pictures. Thumbing through them, I saw that they were my own pictures - pictures _I_ had painted, I mean. Still lifes of the world outside, fairies, horses, mermaids.. I painted and drew just about everything. From real things to fantasy creatures and monsters.

I was in college for game design, visual storytelling was my forte. Music and art were two things I was pretty good at and game design seemed like the perfect answer.

I fell back onto the bed, my head aching with confusion and irritation.

What the hell was going on?

"Mikaela!"

I froze, hearing footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Mick, you up?"

It was the old man!

I held my breath.

A knock on the door and he walked in.

I had expected him to yell at me, shriek, throw something, tell me to leave.. _Something!_

"Good, you're up! Want some pancakes?" He grinned. He had a long gray braid and a red bandana around his forehead. He wore clothes in a boho-hippie style.

My brows shot up, "Pan.. cakes?"

"Ah, yes. I knew your momma was a liar when she said you preferred waffles. But I know my granddaughter best, _you _are a pancakes girl," he wagged his finger at me. "Get dressed, and I'll start on breakfast," he smiled and left.

He called me Mick. He _knew _my name. And I didn't have the heart to tell him my 'mom' was right, I did prefer waffles. Wait- granddaughter?

He knew _me_.

Oh, hell.. what was going on?

I pulled on a pair of black leggings and my no sleeved, Black Sabbath t-shirt dress. I slid my feet into my white flats and left the room- _my _room.

I walked down the stairs, sneaking and trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Hey, Mickey Mouse," he smiled, leaning over the stove, already several pancakes piled up on a plate on the counter.

"Hi." I laughed, smiling. My parents, and my Grampa were the only ones who'd call me that. I was trying to act natural but he noticed.

"You okay?"

"Yeah.. just.. I had a nightmare," I chuckled, sitting down.

"Oh, what about, Mick?" He gave me a brief look of confusion before turning back to the pancakes.

He was so familiar. Like I'd seen him before. But where?

"Uh.." I glanced around, hoping to Keyser Soze myself out of this situation. "Vampires," I finally said after he gave me a probing look.

"Vampires are bad, will always be bad," he said as if he knew vampires personally.

I squinted at his back; who was this guy?

"Yep, the vampires in my nightmare were awful.. so, how'd you sleep?" I said, eager to change to subject.

"Always carry around holy water, is what I say." He laughed, "I slept good.. The Widow Johnson kept me up," he winked at me.

I snorted, laughing, "Well…" I _really_ didn't know how to reply to that. But I couldn't stop laughing.

"Here ya go, Mickey Mouse," he sat a plate of pancakes in front of me, all shaped like Mickey Mouse.

I felt my heart plummet, my throat constrict, and my eyes stinging with fresh tears. "Thanks, Papa," I managed to say. Papa was what I used to call my grandfather, and I hoped that this guy wouldn't mind.

"You're welcome, Mousy."

He didn't even notice my little emotional nose-dive there, and I was glad I didn't have to explain _why_ I was nearly crying over _pancakes_.

After drowning my pancakes in syrup, I took a bite. I hummed in appreciation, "These are amazing."

"Thank ya kindly," he grinned at me. "Oh.. before I forget. Don't tell your brothers that I let you into the second shelf," he eyed me warily before returning to his own pancakes.

Second Shelf? What the hell was that? A club? A secret room..? Also.. _brothers_?!

"I won't, it'll be our secret." I decided that was the safest answer.

"Your momma and your brothers will be arriving tomorrow sometime, so you'd better get as much fun in as you can. Ya'know Sam takes several pairs of eyes to make sure he don't do anything stupid," he ranted, shaking his head.

"Yeah, true.. " Sam? Was he one of my brothers? How many brothers did I have here? "What do you suggest I do for fun?" I tried asking without sounding sarcastic or patronizing.

He looked to me again, then to the wall, thinking, "I'd definitely suggest the Boardwalk and the Promenade."

"Alright, thanks," I smiled. What was the Boardwalk? Promenade? Did that have anything to do with the Second Shelf?

As Papa stepped to the fridge and yanked it open, I caught a glimpse of a piece of cardboard, blocking off the second shelf, with _OLD FART_ written in black ink on it. I nearly laughed at myself, the _second shelf_. He pulled out two Root Beers and handed me one as he sat back down in his seat.

"Thanks, Pops," I smiled, taking it.

"You're welcome, darlin'." He tucked into his pancakes.

"I'll clean the kitchen." I spoke up after taking a sip from the Root Beer. It was in a glass bottle! I didn't know they sold soda in glass bottles anymore.

"All right," he grinned around his fork, he was probably glad he didn't have to clean up his mess. I mean, it made sense to me. You cook, I clean, and vice versa.

I laughed, shaking my head. He was so much like my real Grampa, it was head spinning. I glanced to the clock hanging on the wall and saw that it was nearly 1 pm.

Our conversation turned to my outfit, saying how it looked like pajamas. I just laughed, I liked wearing things that were, usually, considered unfashionable.

"Only what you like," he laughed. He stood, tossing his bottle away and set his syrup covered plate in the sink. "I'll be in the Hobby Room, Mouse," Papa said, ruffling my head and walked out of the kitchen.

I sat stiffly, waiting until he left before another emotional nose-dive hit me. I buried my face into my palms, breathing deeply, trying not to bawl. That was what my grampa always said whenever I wanted to dye my hair strange colors, when I wanted to wear strangely colored pants, when I wanted to wear mismatched socks, when I wanted to dye my hair bright colors..

_'Only what you like, Mickey Mouse.'_

I sighed in my palms, my eyes stinging and my throat tightening. My grandfather was all I had left when my parents were in killed in a car crash when I was 15. Due to his health problems, he could not gain sole custody of me. I was a ward of the state, and I would be able to live with him but periodically my caseworker, Tess, would check in on me. I had lived with him for nearly four years before he suffered from a heart attack and died.

After he passed away, I was left alone. I was 19 and technically an adult.. but I was still working on my recovery, so things were hard for me. Tess had taken me in, allowing me to live with her and her foster children. She was kind, supportive, and she never demanded anything from me. His death was two years ago and I had managed to overcome many problems and grow as a person and as an adult.

But faced with all of these very sudden changes, and this man who was, internally, my grandfather.. I felt as though I was 16 again and relapsing.

_Enough of that._

I quickly began to clean, washing the dishes by hand. No dishwasher.. I grumbled at that a little, but got over it. I washed down the counters, stove, and table. I left the freshly cleaned kitchen with pruned, red hands and went upstairs.

I changed into my black, whitewash, tight, low-riding skinny jeans and white flats. I wore my off the shoulder, large, gray shirt with the Bat-signal across the chest. I was short, I knew that, even if I wasn't too pleased with that fact. I was curvy and petite, with round hips and a narrow waist.

I knew I wasn't the prettiest thing around, but I also knew that I wasn't so unfortunate looking. Pretty would be what I would use to describe myself. Not beautiful or gorgeous, but certainly pretty.

I brushed and styled my near-black hair so it fell to easily my waist with neat curls and pinned my bangs to the right side of my head. I applied a line of black eyeliner and made faces at myself in the mirror for nearly 30 minutes before I reminded myself that I was 21 year old.

But looking at my ID, I was astounded to find that I was not.

Not anymore.

Not only did whomever brought me here steal my pink hair, they also stole _time _and _my last name_.

According to my new ID, I was born on Feb 14 (that was right) of 1970 (wrong, wrong, wrong, _so wrong_! 1992). Mikaela Jane Emerson. Mikaela Jane was right.. _Emerson_? Not right. Wrong, wrong.. _wrong_! My last name was Aaron. Mikaela Jane _Aaron, _born in 1992 on February 14!

What year was it now?

If I was born in 1970, how, technically, old was I now?

For the life of me, I couldn't find a calendar. So I grabbed the next best thing. I snatched the Root Beers from the garbage and searched the label for the copyright date. The copyright claimed it was 1987.

Which made me seventeen.

1987.

_1987._

I sat on the bed for a while, trying to think of _what _was happening and _why _it was happening.

I had the contents of my purse spilled across my bed. My make-up (in a small zip-shut bag), my in case of emergency lady-things (tampons, pads, panty liners all in another small zip-shut bag), my Superman wallet (holding host to gads of money, social security number (which was also different), and ID), my pepper spray, my cell phone, and its charger.

Seeing the last two things, my heart skipped a beat then hammered hard.

I flew to the closet, sliding it open as quickly as I could. Seeing a free plug-in, I swiftly plugged in the charger and my dead phone.

_Please, Apple, don't let me down._

I carefully placed my pictures in front of the phone and plug-in, hiding the new-age tech. It'd be bad for everyone if someone were to find it.

I sat back down on the edge of the bed, gnawing on my lower lip in confusion.

Was it an elaborate prank? Was I dreaming? What was I doing the night before?

Nothing extraordinary, just reading Batman: Night of the Owls, a series that came out in 2012, written by Scott Snyder. I sighed, shaking my head. Looking at my outfit, I was sure I wasn't going to stand out (not too much, anyway). But my hair... it had no large volume or wild curls nor did I use any gel or mousse or hairspray. It fell loose and curled slightly, parted to the right, hinting at my undercut on the left side. My ears were full of small silver rings and studs. Again, I chewed on my lower lip.

Maybe I should tell Grampa what was happening.

No.

I'll get thrown in the loony bin quicker than you can say Billy Idol.

I stood, touching up my eyeliner, forming a bit of a wing on each eye.

"Mickey… we can do this," I nodded to myself and winked. I rolled my eyes and laughed a dryly, I was _so_ screwed. I stepped back to my bed, shoving my things back into my purse.

I bent, kneeling in front of the closet, checking on my phone. It was still far too dead to even tell me that it was dead. I readjusted the pictures, hiding the phone again, sighing I stood back up.

What now-

"_-Mickey Mouse!"_

I jumped, clutching my heart and walked into the hallway slowly.

"Yeah, Papa?" I said cautiously, still afraid he'd realize I wasn't actually his granddaughter. Something told me that I'd never shake off that feeling.

"There's gonna be some new movies coming out tonight at the theater," he shouted back up the stairs.

"Oh, yeah? Which ones?" I quickly grabbed my messenger bag I used as a purse and my Vans (Did Vans even exist in the 80s?) zip-up hoodie. The bag was made out of gray fabric with pins featuring DC and Marvel heroes and stumbled down the stairs.

"Predator, Princess Bride, Robo-Cop, Overboard.." he read from a list in his TV Guide.

"Princess Bride?" I gawked.

We really were in the 80s. Sure I adored Predator.. But _Princess Bride..!_

"Can I go to that one?" I grinned, bouncing on my toes.

"Of course, Mickey. You got your money, don't you?" He raised his brows.

"Yes," I nodded. My wallet was strangely full of twenties, fives, and tens. I had nearly 200 bucks in there. I assumed I had some kind of job... unless I was a thief.

"All right, well, get a move on, then. The movie starts at 6." He smiled and walked back into his room. Which, getting a peak at, I was glad I wasn't allowed in there.

It was filled with dead, stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes. The chemicals wafting from the room made my stomach churn.

I forced a smile as he glanced back to me with an encouraging smile and slid the doors shut.

I sighed, shaking my head. This place was weir-

"Oh!" He said suddenly, opening the doors.

"Yes?" I quickly shoved a smile on my mouth and stared.

"One more thing: You take the car, you fill her up. And don't tell your brothers I let you driver her." He gave me a pointed look, and then shut the door again.

"Car... right," I sighed, looking around for any signs of the said car's keys.

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><p>It was almost 5 and I was glad I was leaving early. I had no idea where I was driving to, nor where the theater even was.<p>

After getting some last minute directions from Grampa, I left. He said the theater was on the Promenade, at the Boardwalk.

Again... Promenade. _What_? Boardwalk, again... _**what?!**_

I was driving around, slowly but not slow enough to warrant stares or glares. It was around 5:40, at least that was what the radio told me. It was Santa Carla's number one rock station.

Santa Carla?

I was struck with, _I-know-that_ syndrome.. but I couldn't place it, so I tossed it aside. I was a sucker for 80s rock, so when that was all I could find on the radio, I was ecstatic.

From what I gathered, Santa Carla was popular. Lots of attraction, but why? I wasn't sure, but I was sure that I'd probably get much needed information tonight. I'd keep a low profile, not out myself as a tourist. Tourists garnered unwanted attention, and I didn't need any kind of attention right now. I needed answers.

I followed a line of cars, filled with young people, and parked in a massive parking lot, also filled with people. I put the hood up on the car and locked it, shoving the keys into my purse. I followed a group of kids that looked like they were my age- my _new _age, anyway.

They were yelling and laughing, and generally having a good time. I could only hope that they were headed to the Promenade or even the Boardwalk.

The sun was low, but not ready to set yet. I took a deep breath and we came to a line of storefronts, parallel to the waterfront.

Promenade... Duh! I laughed at myself. I thought it was some secret lingo. It was a shopping center! A line of stores on the boardwalk, with several signs pointing towards The Boardwalk, the amusement park located on the boardwalk along the beach, across the waters of the Promenade.

I spent the better part of an hour following the group, in and out of various stores. I decided to forgo the movie, I loved the Princess Bride... but I knew it by heart. I needed to get to know this place.

The group I was following was full of buff dudes and pretty girls with t-shirts and coats proclaiming their group as the Surf Nazis.

Again, that familiar feeling piqued but I shrugged it off as I continued to tail them. They were quite rowdy and gathered quite a bit of scowls and amourous smiles. I figured they were pretty infamous for the way people reacted to them.

We left the Promenade, walking along the walkway that led us into the Boardwalk. It was free to get in and my excitement skyrocketed.

Rides, rides, and more rides!

I grinned, bouncing on my toes. This was going to be great. We passed an empty bandstand, games, rides, and stores galore. Hardly anyone paid me any mind, besides the random flirty smirk, wink, or confused stare.

The _I-know-that_ syndrome was now a constant nagging feeling at my conscious. Everything reeked of familiarity but I just could not place anything! It was getting on my nerves and I was feeling distraughtly frustrated.

I was about to kick a trash can to relieve some of my accumulated aggression when it all melted away as my eyes landed on a comic book shop.

I gasped and all but ran in. This was exactly what I needed! Some great and wonderful comics to bring back some light in my suddenly confusing life.

I grinned wildly and nearly giggled, but I reined it in when some of the customers gave me a weird glance.

I smiled awkwardly and meandered towards the DC comics. Superman and Batman and Green Lantern could real-

"I haven't seen you in here before."

"You just move in?"

I turned to the voices, plastering on a smile and looked up at them.

I froze, gawking, "_Corey Feldman?_"

He screwed his eyes nearly shut as the other one raised his brows high. Corey Feldman wore a red bandana around his forehead and had shoulder length, light brown hair.

"The name's _Edgar_," he said, continuing to squint at me.

"Alan," the other said, just as seriously, although his voice wasn't as scratchy as Feldman's. He had short dark hair and dark eyes.

"Frog," they said in unison.

I lost my breath.

I knew _exactly _where I was.

_**Santa Carla**_.

Of course_!_ How stupid could I be**?** How blind_**?!**_

Not only was I in the past, I was in a whole other _universe_!

Edgar and Alan Frog, resident vampire hunters. Well, not yet. Not until they killed Marko, then Paul.

I didn't know I wasn't breathing until my lungs ached and my vision had black spots in it.

I was staying at Grandpa Emerson's house. He was my Papa (here anyway). I was Mikaela Emerson... sister of Sam and Michael Emerson, the only daughter of Lucy Emerson. The _same _Lucy that Max wanted to turn and have her lead the coven alongside him.

And that meant David and his Lost Boys were somewhere around here as well, along with Star and Laddie.

That meant that tomorrow, when Michael, Sam, and Lucy arrived...

Michael was going to see Star and fall in love...

He would be turned...

And all hell will break loose.

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><p>..to be continued<p> 


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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><p>Voices. Muted at first but growing clearer and louder with each passing second as I regained consciousness.<p>

"I don't know, Edgar!" One voice snapped.

"I don't either!" The other barked back.

I opened my eyes, shielding them from the suddenly bright, attacking light. I hissed, grumbling, "Shit..."

The arguing stopped, and I heard shuffling.

"You're alive!" The first, Alan, stared then glared.

"What happened?" I sat up. I saw I was in a back room of sorts. Boxes, chairs, and other random things cluttered the room.

"You fainted," Edgar narrowed his eyes.

"I did?" I gawked and shook my head. I only fainted when I was severely stressed. I hadn't done that though in years.

"Yeah... and in your sleep, you were talkin' about vampires." Edgar took a step forward.

I felt nervous, "I have nightmares of _fictional _monsters."

I felt the need not to involve them in this mess. I had to protect them, they were just little kids.

"Who is Corey Feldman?" Alan gripped my wrists, pulling me up.

They were kids, sure, but damn... they were tall.

Edgar looked annoyed at that, I guess he didn't want to be called by something else.

"He's a European actor... He's in a lot of movies based on Jane Austen's novels," I fibbed.

"Jane Austen?" They glanced to each other, mirroring a look of confusion.

"A romance novelist from the 1700s." I smiled, "Ya'know... Sense and Sensibility, Emma, Pride and Prejudice."

They gave each other a look of disgust, I chuckled at their reaction. _Boys. _Hearing my giggle, Edgar scowled at me.

"Come on, we gotta get back to the shop," he said gruffly, leading us out of the back room and into the store front.

"Thanks for not leaving me on the floor," I smiled appreciatively at them.

"Hm," Alan said.

"You like Batman?" Edgar nodded to my shirt.

"More like, _love_..." I laughed. I stepped towards the Batman comics and thumbed through them.

I needed to get out of there, but if I rushed out, I was sure I'd cause a scene. Which I didn't want.

"Who's your favorite Robin?" Alan asked.

"Tim Drake," I grinned.

They cast each other a baffled look.

"Who?" Edgar asked, squinting at me.

Oh shit. He came out... when? 1989, 1990?! I couldn't remember. "Sorry... I got confused; I'm still a little woozy," I said, frowning.

They stepped on either side of me, boxing me in as they drilled me with their suspicious stares.

"Why are you feeling woozy?" Alan narrowed his eyes.

They think I'm a vampire. Chances are they'd rather stake me quickly than believe that I was from a different time and world.

"I'm on my period," I lied.

Instantly their eyes bugged, their faces red, and they backpedaled away from me so quickly as if I'd explode at any second.

I would have grinned at this if I wasn't so worried.

"Well... I'll buy these." I waved a handful of Batman, Green Lantern, and Wonder Woman comics. I walked to the counter as Alan rang me up.

"Enjoy..." he narrowed his eyes at me, like he was trying to read my mind.

"Thanks, Alan. It's nice meeting you two," I smiled to Edgar.

Edgar offered a, "Hm." And I left, trying to rush out of the shop casually without just flat out fleeing. No need to have Edgar and Alan trying to stake me while I had to worry about _actual _vampires.

I sighed, shaking my head. So much rattled around my brain, it ached. I stuck the comics into my bag. I began walking along the Promenade, following once again, the Surf Nazis.

The sun set, its last rays darting across the sky before vanishing completely.

I swallowed hard.

Vampires were real here. I needed to be careful and I really needed to _not die_.

I recognized Shelly and Greg leading the pack towards the carousel.

...This was when David and the boys were introduced. David flirted with Shelly and Greg got pissed, then the guard stepped in...

The guard was killed.

David and the boys _killed_ the guard.

I was overwhelmed with the urge to make sure that the guard lived.

I quickly bought several tickets, unsure if I even needed tickets to get on the carousel or not.

I didn't. It was one of the free rides in the Boardwalk.

I shivered, feeling nauseous and thrilled at the same time. This guard had a wife, a family... I really didn't know, but I was sure. The woman who hung up the Missing Person posters... she could have been his wife or sister. Either way, he would be missed and I couldn't let him die, not if I could help it.

The carousel was spinning slowly, allowing others to hop on or off. I really was a clumsy kid, so the idea of stepping onto a moving ride- well.. I knew it'd end one of two ways. I'd fall and die or I'd actually make it up there.

I held my breath as I stepped onto the carousel. Sighing, I was relieved I had made it. I meandered around bobbing horses, patrons, and startled myself with my own reflection. I fit in well, wearing clothes that didn't make me stick out like a sore thumb. But the look on my face chilled me.

I looked scared, desperate. I needed to relax, at least look like I was having a good time. I needed to really fit in, if I was walking around looking freaked out.. that would have gained me attention I wasn't ready to deal with.

I continued on my journey and finally, I saw Greg and Shelly. They were sitting on a carriage's bench, surrounded by their gang, Surf Nazi (Surf Nazi_s_?).

I glanced around me and searching for the vampires. They'd have to be making an appearance soon, right?

My eyes continued to scan my moving surroundings, gnawing on my lower lip as my stomach suddenly dropped.

In the crowd, there they were. David, Dwayne, Paul and Marko, glancing around. Probably eyeing possible food sources.

I froze and my heart hammered. These were the antagonists, their leader being Max. What the hell was I supposed to do? I was just one 5'2" girl with fainting spells. I could beat with with a guitar, maybe. Or, perhaps, even paint them up in brilliant colors!

If I had to save everyone they were to kill, I'd have to rest. But no rest for the wicked, the show must go on. I needed to figure out my battle plan.

How was I to save my family from them? Keep Lucy from the video store? But that could let Michael wind up being killed by the boys.. or even Sam. I swallowed thickly, my flesh trembling with sudden stress I never thought I'd have to deal with.

Protecting my new family from _vampires_.

It stunned me just how attractive they really were. They were all tall, lean and built. Well, anyone compared to me was tall, I'll be honest. The shortest was Marko, and even then I was sure he was at _least _5'10".

Up close, I was able to see their outfits. Better than the screen time they had on the movie.

David wore a black, military, pea coat, and another coat beneath that one. It was a dark, denim jacket. Two coats, really? I thought it was supposed to be warm here, but the way he was dressed, it looked like he was expecting winter! A black, ribbed shirt, black leather gloves, and dark pants. Were the pants leather? I wasn't sure. He wore black cowboy boots and silver spurs, yep. All this time I thought he wore just _boots_, but no... _cowboy_ boots. When did Cowboy Way even come out?

_Oh boy_. David... where do I begin? His neat, short beard or his crystal blue eyes, his peroxide blonde hair or that mouth? Unf.

Why... why?! Why must villains look this good? Jesus on a bicycle... David was gorgeous; the others were hot, too... But the dominance and the total alpha male air he oozed was just... uh... dare I say it? A turn on..?

Dwayne's flesh had a hint of a dark complexion to it, and I was left wondering if he had a bit of Native American in him. His dark eyes were rimmed with dark lashes, his dark hair was long, a good bit passed his shoulders, and it fell in straight tresses. He wore no shirt beneath his denim coat and boy was he _toned_... On the right sleeve of his coat, there was cheetah print and on his right wrist, bracelets. He wore jeans and white tennis shoes. Dangling from his left ear, was a long, white fang. He also had a necklace made with a dark cord and little animal skulls. Hm. I wonder how he got those. I take that back, I don't want to wonder or _know_.

Paul's jeans were light and tight, tucked into tall biker boots. Beneath his long, black, leather coat, he wore a black mesh top that did nothing to hide his well toned physique. The sleeves of his jacket were rolled up, showing off the many bracelets decorating his wrists, over his right shoulder he wore some kind of decorated chain. His eyes were dark blue and he had a seemingly permanent grin on his mouth. His hair was long, light blonde, and was styled in the fashion of what I assumed was considered 'in'. I liked it, but then again I wasn't sure what was hip in the 80s...

Wait... was 'hip' even used then... err- now? No. I think it is 'cool' and 'wicked'... _maybe_. Shit. I need to pay attention to what people are saying around me.

Marko's coat was a lot cooler in person, on the screen I never really saw what was on it. It was covered with patches of all sorts. Skulls, band logos, women, etc. Just about everything was stitched on it; probably making it quite obvious of what he was a fan of. On the left shoulder of his jacket dangled tassels of blue, red, and yellow. His shirt was a white tank top that was cropped just above his belly button (Uh... he was ripped, too!). He wore black chaps over his jeans and muddy biker boots on his feet. Marko's eyes were bluish green and his hair was blonde, quite curly. In the front was cut short while in the back, it fell to the middle of his back.

Business up front, party in the back. Ah... mullets. I hated mullets, and I hated them even more now that I thought that these four dudes had them and they rocked them. They made mullets look so good. They all had some sort of scruff on their faces, except for Marko. He looked like the baby of the group.. but I was pretty sure he was the second eldest, the first being David.

I had ogled and drooled over them long enough. I turned away before they could catch me staring, no need to draw any form of unwanted attention to me. Now, back to saving the guard.

I stepped closer to Greg and Shelly and made a rash, split-second decision.

"See those guys over there in the leather jackets?" I pointed to a group of young men covered with leather and chains, standing near a cotton candy vendor. Away from David and his boys, and away from the guard.

Greg eyed me from toes to hair and grinned. His buddies smirked wildly at me; there were more than I thought.

Shelly glared at me, "What about 'em?" She snapped.

"They said Surf Nazis was a gang full of chicken shits," I said calmly.

Instantly Greg and his gang flew off of the carousel, red faced, and furious, rushing straight towards the leathered men.

I felt a little guilty, but the people I'd framed were well built, outnumbered Greg and his buddies, and looked quite menacing. Hopefully the guards would break the fight up quickly and no one would really be harmed.

I sighed, letting out a shaky breath. I hoped I had saved the guard, and hoped that the people I'd framed wouldn't be killed.

Something brushed my shoulder and I turned, curiously at what had touched me. Then looked _up_ at..

_**.**_ _**. .**_

He grinned down at me and I was suddenly aware of how tiny I was.

"Hi," he said, grinning. He leaned against the pole I was clinging to and was barely a breath away.

"Hullo..." I managed to whisper.

He snickered and glanced to Paul who now occupied the bench Shelly and Greg were sitting on.

"Nice night," Paul grinned.

Oh, lord! I felt my face heat up as he looked me up and down. I looked towards the sky, smiling a bit, "Sure is." I looked back to Marko, "I like your jacket."

"Thanks," he smirked, and leaned in closer, biting down on his thumb, suppressing another bout of snickering. "I like your pants."

I shifted my weight from my left leg to my right. I realized my pants were probably tighter than Paul's, if that was even possible! I blushed and looked down at my shoes. Shying away from situations was how I handled things, but I realized that that wouldn't work here. I looked back up, searching for some courage.

"Thanks," I managed to whisper.

I glanced to Paul who was grinning rather wickedly, lounging with one leg stretched out across the bench and leaned against the arm of it. Then I looked around the ride, David was leaning against a white horse, staring at me. Dwayne was leaning against the back of the bench, whispering something to Paul.

"I'm Marko," the young looking vampire grinned.

He smelled _good_. I haven't the slightest idea if vampires bathed or if they even had to bathe... but he smelled good, _really_ good. His breath didn't stink at all and his nails were long but not long to cause questions.

"I'm Mikaela Emerson... Mickey," I smiled.

"Hiya, _Mickey_," Paul smirked and sat up allowing Dwayne to fall into the seat next to him. "I'm Paul."

Yes, I know. Why was this so awkward? Duh. I make everything awkward. I'm shy and weird and have anxiety problems, I reminded myself.

"Hi, Paul," I waved a little.

"This is Dwayne," Marko gestured towards him.

Dwayne nodded to me, grinning softly.

"And that's David," Paul pointed to said vampire.

Unf.

Why was he looking at me like that? Like I was a midnight snack. _Oh, shit._

"Hello, David," I smiled towards him. "Do you guys come to the Boardwalk often?" I decided to ask. If I kept talking maybe they'll like me and not eat me. Or maybe they'll like me and eat me anyway. And I mean eat as in _devour _not eat as in _oral sex_.

"Every chance we get," Dwayne grinned, looking out towards the crowd.

"Do you?" Marko asked.

"This is my first time, actually. I just moved here, from Phoenix." I looked from Marko to Paul to Dwayne to David.

David was staring. And I don't mean staring like 'oh, hi there'... I mean staring as in 'hello there, _sweet dinner_'.

I swallowed and looked back to Marko. Marko and Paul seemed the safest, though if I remember from the beach/hunting scene in the movie, Marko was the most vicious one... tearing the flesh off of the guy's skull.

"How're you liking Santa Carla?" David finally spoke, something dark etching in his tone. He grinned suddenly, looking to the crowd where Greg and his gang and the leather and chains gang were fighting.

"It's certainly different." I chuckled, trying not to let my fear show.

The ride began slowing down, either the turn was over or the fight was getting too close to the carousel, I wasn't sure which one it was. But what I did know was that I was scared and nervous.

Sure, walking to your car in the dark was nerve racking and fear for your life was typical in that aspect. But I never thought I'd be afraid of vampires.

The ride came to a stop and glanced to the boys, they're attention was on the fight. I took my chance and slithered into the crowd.

I use 'slithered' because I twisted and ducked and nearly crawled through the crowd. My muscles trembled as I continued to flee from the the vampires, trying to get far from carousel as I could manage.

A huge part of me wanted to rush to my car and go home, but the little part of me wanted to stay and see if I could find Laddie or Star.

I passed vendors and more vendors. Vendors for food, coats, ear piercing, clothing, art.. You name it, you could buy it. The smell of food was on the air so thickly my stomach twisted into itself. I realized that I was starving. I chewed on my lower lip and stepped up to one selling an assortment of goodies. Instead of buying food-food, I bought dessert food.

"Here's your order, miss," the young, male cashier smiled shyly, handing me my funnel cake and bowl of chocolate ice cream.

"Thank you so much." I grinned, eager to dig in. I passed over the money and he looked at it as if it were a foreign thing.

I walked away and found a picnic table a few feet away, devoid of people. I sat down and grinned wildly, "Ooooh.." I purred.

"Yummy." And with a loud _thump! _Paul landed roughly in the bench across from me.

I yelped, clapping a hand over my mouth. Seeing who it was, I sighed, sending a glare his way.

"Sorry.." he sang, grinning.

I snorted, shaking my head, "Sure.. sorry.." I chuckled.

"You ran away from us so quickly, we thought you didn't like us." Marko slid onto the bench beside me, pouting.

Oh, shit..

I shook my head, chuckling, "To be honest, I thought I saw someone I knew in the crowd.. I was very mistaken. And when I turned around, I didn't see any familiar faces."

"Who'd you think it was?" Paul tilted his head, something dark danced in his baby blues.

"Um- ..The Widow Johnson? Do you know her?" I glanced from Paul to Marko, gauging their reactions. They faces were blank, a little confused if anything.

"Nope," Marko shook his head. "Is she a friend?"

"Uh.." I winced, "Her and my grampa.. _are…_"

"Are?" Paul probed, raising his brows.

"Doing the do," I whispered.

A pause before they barked with laughter.

"The what?" Marko laughed around his fist.

"Y'know.. frick frack.. the nasty.. forking.. horizontal tango.. the sex," I said the last one barely a hush over a whisper.

They laughed even harder, "Frick frack?" Paul laughed.

"My favorite is the nasty." Marko grinned wildly, snorting into his hand.

I laughed, blushing. I shrugged, "Want some?" I offered, pushing the large funnel cake into the middle of the picnic table.

"Don't mind if I do." Paul reached over breaking some off and began nibbling on it.

I broke some off and dunked it into my ice cream. This earned very startled stares. Sure, they're the scary vampires that eat people and _my _diet is frightening.

"Try it." I commanded, pushing the ice cream next to the funnel cake, "I dare you." I said after they just stared at the ice cream, as if it'd bite. After my 'dare', they muttered and tried it.

Dunking the funnel cake into the ice cream then popping it into their mouths. They paused, chewed, and bliss came over their features.

"Wow." They whispered and eagerly dug into the funnel cake and ice cream.

I chuckled, "Just wait.. Soon I'll make you eat deep fried snicker bars and oreos." I grinned at their expressions; a mixture of fear and interest.

"Dwayne!" Paul shouted, "You gotta try this!"

"Seriously, get over here!" Marko shouted and soon Dwayne sat on the other side of Paul.

I smirked as Dwayne squinted at the treats in the center of the table.

"Try it," Marko urged.

"You won't regret it, trust me," Paul chuckled.

I bit at my lower lip as he narrowed his dark eyes at me then to the treats again.

He tentatively broke a bit of the funnel cake off and dunked it in the ice cream and popped the piece into his mouth. He chewed with thought, then nodded, "Wow."

"Right?" Paul nudged Dwayne.

"Who knew?" Marko looked at me, grinning wildly.

I felt safe.. I felt much safer than before, I mean. I guess since I had something interesting to show them, that that had somehow secured my safety. I could only hope that once I had no more to show them, that they'd like me enough to not get bored of me and kill me.

I chuckled, grinning back to Marko.

"There's gonna be live concert night after tomorrow, you goin'?" Paul leaned forward, eating more of the funnel cake and ice cream. He began sucking on his fingers, his eyes taking me in, a suggestive look on his features.

Marko snickered, biting down on his thumb. He was watching me closely, his green-blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

Dwayne, too, was watching me, discreetly. Watching me casually as he took bites off the treats.

I pretended not to notice any of this. Were they sizing me up? Ready to kill me?

The concert.. ? Ah, yes. The well built, sweaty, gyrating man with the saxophone.

"I most certainly am," I smiled. I pulled my hoodie from my messenger bag and shrugged into it, feeling rather chilled. "Are you?" I looked to the boys.

Dwayne bobbed his head and continued eating at the snack.

Paul grinned, flashing his pearly white teeth. "Most certainly," he said teasingly.

I rolled my eyes and pouted.

Marko cackled, "You can't blame us, you talk fancy like that, you're gonna get picked on." The blonde reached over and took the hood of my jacket in his hand, turning it to see the brand inside.

At the movement, I was forced to lean closer towards him. Where he sat, we weren't brushing anything, no elbows or knees, but now… My shoulder was brushing against his chest and his breath tickled my left temple

I grumbled, "I'm not dumbing myself down to fit in." I said giving Marko and Paul a challenging look.

This little action I regretted as the smirks on their faces looked rather dangerous, especially seeing as how closely I now sat beside Marko.

"We wouldn't want a smart girl like yourself to dumb down." David voice covered me like a cold, wet blanket and yet heated me up from toes to hair. He placed a hand in front of me on the table and leaned over me, "Would we boys?"

"Not at all, Mickey.." Marko teased, grinning. He let go of my hood and scootched away from me a bit, while glancing to David.

Paul chuckled, "We were only teasin'.."

Breathe, Mickey, I reminded myself and I took in a breath and sighed it out, "So, this concert.. who is playing?" I ignored the scent that David wafted. It was so good. It filled my nose and I could nearly taste it.

"Tim Cappello," Dwayne spoke up, leaning back and sighed. The funnel cake plate was empty and the ice cream was gone.

I only got one bite. Oh well, I'd pout later.

"I've never heard of him." I chuckled, "Do you think he's any good?" I glanced from Paul to Marko.

"Yep." Paul vigorously nodded, "He's very good."

The conversation turned to music and what they thought was good and what sucked. David's breath tickled my forehead. I risked a glance up and he was just.. _staring _at me. I swallowed, and blinked and gnawed on my lower lip.

Ah, shit, shouldn't have done that.

He looked at my mouth and tilted his head a bit.

I took a breath to speak, but it wasn't my voice that I heard.

"I wanna go, David," Star said emerging from the crowd and stood at the end of the table.

"You always wanna go when things get good," Paul whined.

Marko snickered into his hand, staring at me.

Star looked at me, worry etched in her face, then to David. I looked to David and he smiled at me and my heart did this stupid little sumersault. I wasn't sure if it was because it was Kiefer Sutherland and he was fine as hell, or if I was just scared as hell.

"Wanna go with us?" David said softly, his breath danced across my face. It didn't stink either, there was a slight coppery scent to it. Like he'd been sucking on pennies.

Blood.

Blood was on his breath. Along with the blood, smoke. But other than that, it didn't smell awful.

The table fell quiet as they waited for my answer.

"Maybe next time. I've got errands to run for my grandfather," I smiled sheepishly. It must be good that they wanted me to go the cave with them.. right? Either very good or very bad..

"We'll hold you to that." David straightened, a proud smirk on his face and he walked to Star. "Well, boys.. let's go," he said, still staring at me.

Paul, Dwayne, and Marko stood and moved away from the picnic table. I stood as well, watching David and Star disappear into the crowd.

Marko walked to me, bowed low, and took my hand in his. "It was so lovely to have met you, dear Mickey," he teased, then kissed my knuckles.

I giggled like fool, I'm not going to lie. I shook my head, my face feeling hot. "It was wonderful to have met you, as well, sir Marko," I said, my voice taking an English accent.

Paul snorted, "See ya, Mick." He winked and walked away.

"Bye-bye, Mickey Mouse," Dwayne teased, his dark eyes twinkling and followed Paul.

Marko turned, then blew a kiss at me and vanished into the crowd.

I laughed again, shaking my head, trying to rid of the blush that stained my face. Vampires that killed and ate people, and I'm blushing over them?! What was wrong with me?

Despite some flirtatious confusion, that went.. surprisingly well. I was on their radar, a little more than what I'd like.. but they seemed to like me. Enough not to eat me, I hoped.

I was running on dumb luck.. or smart luck, lucky either way, really. I began my trek back to Grampa's car when I was hit with a serious hankering for a cigarette.

Oh yes, I smoked, but usually when I was only in stressful situations. But I suppose this really did count as a stressful situation. Trying to protect my new family from old vampires in a new town in the 80s.

Ugh.

* * *

><p>I hopped into the car, starting her up, and drove. I meandered for a while, getting to know the city. I easily found the town I didn't want to get lost in.. and promptly got lost in it.<p>

Eventually I got out of the projects and found downtown. Full of people, even at 11 pm.. Actually, that wasn't very late at all.

Before I headed home, I found a gas station. I topped off the car and walked inside. I grabbed a bunch of junk food and sodas, Root Beer and Dr Pepper. I made my way to the counter.. What was the legal age limit to buy cigarettes in the 80s?

I wasn't sure, and there were no signs indicating I had to be 18 or older.

I sighed, but threw on a quick smile, "Hi."

The attendant grunted in reply. He had a blonde mohawk that had blue striped dyed in, a nose ring and black eyeliner.

"Could I also get a pack of Marlboro menthols, please?" I asked, hoping he would just let me pay for them.

Along with the junk food and drinks, I snatched up a handful of BIC lighters.

He grunted and grabbed a pack, ringing it up as well.

"Actually, could you make that two?" I chagrinned.

He narrowed his eyes and grabbed another.

"Thank you." I paid for everything, which came up to around 20 bucks.. Insane! All this for twenty!

With everything in a plastic bag, I made my way to the door, "I love your hair, by the way." I smiled and left, a grunt following me out. What a nice guy.

Within the next ten minutes, I was home.. well, you know what I mean.

I parked in the garage, and made my way inside. Grampa was still in his room of horrors. I stood in the kitchen, setting the drinks in the fridge and dropped the bag of yums on the table.

"Hey, Papa!" I shouted and he walked out.

"What is it, Mick?"

"Candy bar?" I gestured to the goods.

"Oooh.." he hummed and grinned and dug through, "This isn't candy." He narrowed his eyes at me and waved my cigarettes in my face.

"Oh, shit.." I widened my eyes and froze.

"Better not let your momma know, she'll skin you alive." he laughed, grabbing a Hershey and Snickers, "The Hershey's is to keep my silence.. also this.." He grabbed a cold bottle of Root Beer and sat down at the table.

"Thanks for not telling or planning on not telling, I mean." I chuckled, shoving the packs of cigarettes and lighters into my purse.

"Mmmhm." he chuckled around the Snickers. "How was the movie?"

Movie..?

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, "Didn' get lost, did ya?"

Movie? Movie. Movie! Princess Bride!

"Ooh! It was fantastic! My favorite was Spaniard, Inigo Montoya." I smiled, broadly.

He chuckled, "Well, I'm glad you had fun."

Yeah.. fun.

"Well, I'm pretty tired.. so I'm gonna turn in, okay?" I planted a kiss on his forehead.

He snorted, "G'night, Mick."

I rushed up the stairs with my drink and Baby Ruth. I made it to my room, and collapsed on my bed.

I cracked open my Dr Pepper and sighed deeply before chugging half of it. The cold beverage hit my empty stomach and I nearly hurled. I forgot I was starving. I rolled my eyes, sighing.

I had a lot of work to do before passing out, which I really wanted to do.

I felt so… on edge and creeped out.

I quickly blocked off the window, the curtains already there gave me no comfort. So I managed to tack a blanket over it, completely blocking the window.

There, that made me feel a _little _better.

I tied my hair up in a messy bun and got to work. I grabbed a notebook from the bookshelf in the closet and a pen and plopped back down on my bed. I really needed a desk.

I wrote out the events of the entire movie… Mike sees Star, Sam meets the Frogs, Lucy meets Max, all on the first night! Which was tomorrow! Right?

Sam would get that vampire comic (Vampires All Over? Vampires Everywhere?) from the Frog brothers.. but he wouldn't read it until their next meeting.. Which was two weeks later.

So if I could get that away from him, he would be in this blind. He wouldn't know what was happening. The next time Michael sees Star, he (more or less) befriends David and his buds.. he drinks the wine- blood and becomes a half vampire.

Sam figures out Mike is a half-vamp when he has to pull him in through the window, while he is on the phone with Lucy while she is on a date with Max.

So. If I could keep Mike from floating out of the window, Sam wouldn't panic and startle Lucy and she would stay on her date with Max.

But where would that lead?

The blood-sucking Brady Bunch?

But Grampa knew about vampires. He'd catch on.. But wasn't the Widow Johnson a vampire? Or something like that..?

David was antagonizing Michael, on purpose.. because Star liked Mike and not him. Right? But if David and the boys actually treated Michael.. nicely?

Oh, I don't know.

I grumbled, cupping my face and groaned in annoyance.

I looked to the once blank page now covered with random little sentences that didn't make sense to anyone but me.

I stood and tore out the paper, folding it up and shoving it between the mattress and box spring.

..maybe.

..maybe if I spoke to Max, he could get the boys to befriend both Mike and Sam.

Befriend not agitate. Not irritate, not harm, and _definitely _not kill.


End file.
